


Where True Passion Will Go

by damndamedrezi



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Daddy Issues, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Spanking, Suicidal Ideation, Touch-Starved, Unhealthy Relationships, Veteran Wilson, critiquing the american dream through smut, everyones a hoe, if you accidently turn your partner into an eldrich horror are you still technically dating?, sexy shadow hand shenanigans, that will become healthy-ish eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damndamedrezi/pseuds/damndamedrezi
Summary: That damn man in the radio.Wilson trusted him, and look where it got him. That damn man in the radio happens to be Wilson's only source of companionship.When it turns out they are less alone in The Constant than Wilson thought, how will it affect them?i hated ch 2 and honestly it hit too close to home so i deleted it and im not sure if i will ever finish this.
Relationships: Charlie/Maxwell (Don't Starve), Charlie/Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve), Charlie/Wilson (Don't Starve), Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve), Wilson/Science, Wilson/Voxola Radio
Comments: 18
Kudos: 30





	1. Split Me Wide Open/Above and Below

**Author's Note:**

> chapter titles are The Bravery songs that fit the chapter's mood

"The dance hall was not rebuilt?" asked the voice from the radio, deep, British, rich, and even melodic.

"Don't know. There kept being accidents and if it was finished it wasn't until after my father left politics. Why does a demon in a radio care so much anyway?" Wilson asked directly to the radio, tracing his fingers along the edges of it as he leaned back in his chair.

"I give you secrets men would slit their mother's throats for, and you want to know why I ask about an old dance hall?" the voice questioned with an almost poetic rhythm.

"How about you just tell me more about the bargain. Better or worse than slitting my mother's throat?" Wilson leaned into the radio, tapping the table with short bitten nails.

The voice roared with laughter and prevaricated, "I think you're one of those men. Still, I have been kind and given you a bargain that doesn't necessitate such."

"What if mama's my closest pal?"

"Oh yeah? Clearly 'close-to-momma type' is not something you fall under."

Wilson laughed loudly, "Was it the bush of a beard or the fact that my telephone's disconnected?"

"Oh pal, I didn't know or need to know about either of those. You really got it installed just to rip it out?"

"You're not a powerful devil then, huh?" Wilson taunted, annoyed that he couldn't see the handsome voice's face. "Father gave me the cabin on that condition that I did, but I was running low on wiring, and well, now I get my riot act read on my own terms."

"You're something Higgsbury. I'm surprised you didn't take out your own floorboards instead of waiting for the shipment," Wilson imagined thin lips on tan skin, in a soft confident smile.

Wilson sat up straighter in his chair in response, “I’m doing my end of the deal as fast I can but there's no point. We needed other materials that Bertie doesn't have and not having flooring would have just gotten in the way."

"Wait- you actually considered it?" asked the voice with the laughter of someone who had been smoking for years.

Wilson was glad the voice couldn't see the red embarrassment on his face and replied while twirling the bottom of his long nightshirt, "I wouldn't a scientist if I didn't look at the problem from all angles."

The voice laughed again, "I like that about you pal, you don't just think how everyone says you should."

Wilson beamed proudly, leaning into towards the radio, "You sure know how to butter me up."

"No, me buttering you up would be telling you how smart I imagine that beard looks on you,"

Redness returned to Wilson's face, _Is my radio on the make?_ After a pause Wilson meekly said, "Sounds like you have some unconventional ideas of your own,"

"Was it the talking to you through a radio or making a magical deal?"

Wilson laughed sharply, "Buttering me up and not answering my questions, you really are a smooth devil. Also, I don't understand it yet, but I know it's not 'magic'"

"That's what I've been told," the voice said richly succinct.

Wilson rolled his eyes, then ran his thumb across the smooth side of his radio, wanting. "You're human, or at least were."

"Hmmph. Doesn't really matter does it?"

"You promised me even more mysteries answered after I build your doohickey, I think you could tell me this,"

Only static came from the radio, then the voice drawled, "Key word is 'after'"

"But you understand why I want to be great scientist, you really do, I don't think there's anything more human than wanting to fulfill your potential."

"Hah! A lust for power and glory are things one doesn't need to be human to understand, in fact, I think you will find _They_ are keen to such ideas," 

"It's not just that, I want to learn all that can be learned and better mankind! We live in the modern era; the Great War is over, and we are on our way creating a utopia with the new technologies discovered each day."

The voice sighed, grumpily. Wilson heard him start a sentence but quickly end it before any sense could be made. The rain pounded outside, and Wilson turned up the volume, afraid he would miss something the voice said.

"I-I didn't know there was a war," Wilson unsure what to say, cupped the back of the radio like a lover's face. He could feel the shaky vibration from the voices shaky reply. Could the radio feel him touching it? Wilson considered tests for pain receptors he could do; they would need to be a surprise given the voice's apparent sapience.

"It started in Europe. Eventually we got caught up in it. I was a medic."

"Oh," said the voice simply.

"What were you?"

"Nothing brave like that,"

"Wasn't bravery, just drafted was all. They rejected my conscientious objector application. So, it was that or prison."

After what sounded like a smoking exhale the voice said, "I was a vaudeville performer,"

Wilson made a surprised face but managed to not snort and keep up the conversation, "Was the gas that you actually started chasing the audience with the pitchfork?". Wilson smiled at the funny image, imagining the man behind the voice as Harold Lloyd. The voice was quite a goofy guy as Wilson had learned the last two weeks, under all the mysteriousness and snark.

"Not a bad idea. Maybe it should have been your trade," the voice said exasperatedly. Wilson still held the radio, running his fingers over it in a gentle circle. Maybe he could ask if the voice could feel his hands and it would give a straight truthful answer?

"Bah, I would go crazy from talking to all those people. Much nicer in my cabin."

"There's less talking to others than you'd think. When you're on the stage the people are not people, they are an audience," and Wilson couldn't help but notice the lively vibrations whenever the voice spoke.

"That's what everyone feels like to me," Wilson looked shocked at his own statement, retracting his hands back to himself, then looked away from the radio.

Wilson cringed at how quickly the voice replied, "Funny, I feel like I am nothing more than an audience to everything around me," but relaxed at the voice's words.

"Um well a nameless voice out of a radio is quite the performance so don't sell yourself short," Wilson quipped scratching his head, leaning back towards the radio.

A humorless laugh came from the radio, "Heh, that's why you are good company pal."

"What is your name anyway?" Wilson asked quietly, nervously.

"The Great Maxwell," the voice replied simply.

"Oh c'mon, your actual name," Wilson flicked the decorative curves on the top of the radio.

"It will all be the same to you."

"You know my name, but I don't know yours!"

"I don't know what your middle name is."

"Percival," Wilson replied smugly, "Now tell me yours."

"Nah pal," said Maxwell non-chalantly, but Wilson could _swear_ he heard a smirk.

"But we agreed-"

'The Great' Maxwell laughed dryly, "We never agreed to that," Wilson smacked his radio.

"Misrepresenting deals is ungentlemanly!" Wilson growled, "How is talking to you a scholar's dream yet at the same time so frustrating!"

"I would recommend not speaking to me then if it frustrates you so. Don't you have any ideas from all the knowledge I gave you?"

"Still waiting in on the materials for those too," Wilson replied irritatedly, "Otherwise I would."

"Why is your lab so decrepit yet you have so much coin for experiments?"

Wilson went from wolfy to sheepish "An old sponsor of mine wanted me to investigate how to enhance boring stuff with the local lumber mill. I rejected it but when I sent a telegraph recently, he seemed interested so I uh took the money meant for that to do this?" The radio was silent with judgement, "But it's okay, I'll make bank on my new work and repay him!"

"You are an absolute bonehead with money, pal."

"I don't care if I am or not. I have big plans for science and the world. And I do have to thank you for your help thus far," Wilson smiled determinedly, "I have been enjoying your company these last few weeks, maybe even a bit because of your churlishness," Wilson smirked cheekily and returned his hand to playfully swirl his finger on the smooth beautiful wood of the radio.

"Thank me? You're insane, " Maxwell cackled again, remorsefully, "Just bloody divvy,"

"Then why are you helping me? Do you not believe in the future?" Wilson had to stop himself from adding, _Do you not believe in me?_ as he left his palm on the radio.

"Fair point. I do not. Nor did I realize you were this naive. Don't bother with my machine," Maxwell snarled, jolting the radio, as if he were a lion released from a zoo cage. Moments passed with silence from the radio, as Wilson considered turning it off. "Seriously pal, you have an escape out of town when they find out your little racket?"

"It's not-" Wilson started, grabbing the radio furiously. "It is a racket isn't it," he said, relaxing his grip.

The voice spoke, annoyed, "Whether it's a racket or not doesn't really matter, again, do you have a means of leaving if you get caught?"

Wilson set the radio on the table and curled up into the fetal position on the chair, "I suppose it's just second nature to me. Man is a beast determined by nature just as any bird or pig."

"Honestly, pal, I promise you, you don't have a single lying bone in your body. You are as innocent as they come. Real scammers don't feel guilt or scam for 'world peace', " Wilson relaxed at the words in his chair.

"No, I don't think my father has ever felt guilty a day in his life."

"If things go south, can you go back to him?"

Wilson pursed his lips and sighed, "I suppose they'd take me back for appearances sake. I already couldn't stand it there. If I went back...I'd be trapped. I wouldn't be myself. And I've denied being that too long time to go back."

"Then a lover?" There was a brief moment where Maxwell didn't continue and Wilson unknowingly held his breath, "Friends?"

"Hah. A lover. And I don't have any friends I could burden with my equipment,"

"Can't you leave it behind?"

"I am nothing without it." Wilson stood from the chair, starting to pace, fingers running through his hair, "How can I make you understand? Every moment I am working, I am myself. I am absolved of earthly worries and my entire identity is unquestionable as the conduit of atomic truth to the world of mankind. They need me to reach out to them to quash their folly and ignorance. My ape ancestors did not learn to walk so I could walk as well, such things happened so I could _fly_. Fly to that planet you showed me, with the lilac tinged grass and seven moons," Wilson was audibly almost in tears, "It's why I am such an outsider. If I was stuck in such pantomimes of courage or honesty or intellect that is called 'civilization', then I would be as hopelessly lost as all of them. I must use my status as a freak to go beyond morals or religions or law to find the truth, which does not obey such things. When I work, I, I become one with the truth," Wilson walked up to the radio and grabbed it, drawing it close to his face, "You understand don't you? I’ll answer any questions if you don't."

The reply took some time to come out, Wilson grabbed the radio harder, trying to impress upon it his feelings, "Understanding you isn't hard. Of course I do."

"Everyone else has found me hard to understand."

"Then they don't know the lengths true passion will go to," Maxwell said a-matter-of-factly.

Wilson gasped, enamored, and nuzzled his nose against the speaker, "The results of this experiment have been _extraordinary._ " He enjoyed the tactile sense he got from the radio's vibrations, and was quite fondly curious of them.

"Experiment?"

"Yes, I explained to you my motivation, and you got it," Wilson said manically, walking with radio towards his small bedroom, "I only hypothesized it would work after you have proved to be such an intelligent creature, these past weeks. You must be such a force to watch on stage, such mystery keeping the audience's eye on you unbroken. What exactly was your act?" and as Wilson asked his last question, he overextended the reach of the cord and it snapped from the electrical outlet. Wilson scurried to plug it back in, but the voice didn't stop.

"Thank you," said Maxwell happily "I did a variety of things- but the big show was a magic act,"

"What energy source powers you!?"

"Did I not just mention a magic act?"

"Magic! Pah, I'll figure out your secrets, you," Wilson spat as he entered his spartan bedroom.

"I would like to see you try, and I know you will" Maxwell replied musingly as Wilson collapsed onto his bed, holding the radio tight to his chest. Wilson laid on his bed in silence, smiling.

"I can't wait to investigate you," Wilson said dreamily, "Is your vessel functioning while unplugged related to quantum physics?" Wilson felt a twitch down below at the idea, "The knowledge you gave me was related to its destructive power, but with that if harnessed correctly it could provide immense energy for society. I know that's what the boys in California are thinking,"

"I know you do not get out much pal, but ever been told the phrase, 'A magician does not reveal his secrets?'"

Wilson laughed, "Yes actually, he got quite steamed up, there was this fair that used to come around. I would watch the magician from the bushes until I saw all his sleight of hands that he fooled everyone else with-"

"Of course, you are one of _those people_ ,"

"Hey _pal_ , I'm not done with my story!" Wilson quickly replied.

"Oh but your story is too obvious. You followed a good man around until you were able to deduce his hard-won skillful tricks, meant to cause joy and wonder. Then you proceeded to rob everyone of that -all to fill your precious ego- and explained away and ruined the magic of his entertainment," Wilson smiled at the adorable diatribe, the vibrations hitting like the increasing rainfall outside.

"You do understand me," Wilson replied, somewhat missing Maxwell's caustic tone, "It's also what I'm going to do your tricks, you know."

Maxwell guffawed, Wilson could hotly imagine a challenging glare as he spoke, "My magic is at a higher caliber than what you have ever experienced."

"If you're so damn _cocky_ , try and trick me then," Wilson turned the radio's speaker to face him.

"Oh pal, _oh pal._ But sure, how about a riddle then?"

"Sure," Wilson said and immediately Maxwell recited:

"'I grew in the ground, nourished by earth

And cloud-until grim enemies came

To take me, rip my living from the land,'"

Wilson couldn't help but be captured by the piper's call. There was a difference between talking to a voice that was perfect for storytelling, hearing it perform its duty. The already pleasant lilt of Maxwell's voice was at home, nestled softly between the rhymes and rhythm of the riddle. Wilson was almost more focused on the undulations of the speaker box than solving the mystery. He had a face of contemplation.

"'Strip my years-shear, split, shape me

So that I ride homeless in a slayers hand,

Bent to his will. A busy sting,'"

Wilson moved the radio down lower, lower to just happen to press the tip of his half-mast to the speaker. He gave a silent gasp at the novel and utterly _arousing_ sensation as he held the radio on his dick. Somehow, despite being muffled, Maxwell spoke clearer to Wilson than ever. A heavy wave of eroticism passed to Wilson's crotch, unrelated to physical stimuli.

"'I serve my lord if strength and strife

On the field endure and his hold is good.

We gather glory together in the troop,

Striker and death-step, lord and dark lunge,

My neck is slim, my sides are dun,

My head is bright when the battle-sun

Glints and my grim loving lord bears me

Bound for war. Bold soldiers know

That I break in like a brash marauder,'"

"A sword?" Wilson blurted out, red-faced and under the magician's spell, unable to think of another way to break out.

"No," Maxwell replied, and Wilson, embarrassed at his curiosity, sat the radio upright on his lap.

"'Burst the brain-house, plunder halls

Held whole before. From the bone-house

One breaks ready for the road home.

Now the warrior who feels the thrust

Of my meaning should say what I'm called.'"

Wilson was _not_ going to say the immediate answer that came to mind, the answer that could not leave his mind. Eventually he mustered out, "A drill?"

"No, not at all."

"It's a weapon then?"

"One I hope you have some familiarity with, for your sake."

"A spear?" Wilson asked someone desperately, needing to find a way to end the conversation take care of his own spear.

"Correct, you got it _eventually."_

"Where did you hear it? Or do are all haunted radios have it pre-included?"

"My assistant told me that one," Maxwell said with surprising softness.

Faux-sleepily, Wilson replied, "Magician's assistant huh, heard they're highly _sawed_ after."

Maxwell gave a small chuckle and replied, "What should you do if one of your colleagues passed?"

"Umm...is this a threat? I'd do an autopsy on the body,"

A louder chuckle, "No pal, Barium"

"Hmmmm, oh," Wilson gave a snort in his pillow.

"I am glad you a macabre sense of humor, you'll need it."

"Mhhmmmm"

"You sound whacked pal, I'll let you get some sleep."

"Yes, that'd be nice. You'll be back?" Wilson mumbled

"Of course, pal."

\---

Several weeks later, Wilson had been quite surprised to wake up on his back in strange land with a strange man above him. He mentally questioned if this scraggly yet deadly handsome figure was Maxwell when simultaneously the figure asked in his voice, "So pal, did I trick you?". Then vanished, leaving nothing but an autumn morning's hot sun beaming down on him.

After the 10th death, this time because of an angry beefalo, Wilson decided that yes, he had been tricked. And it was after the eleventh or so death that he had understood the depth of the betrayal by the man in the radio. When on his twelfth life he had to eat rot to survive, that was when he started to get a solid plan of revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wilson almost did a lot more to that radio, just felt a lil too creepy so i rewrote it. 
> 
> also i had fun with studying history for this fic
> 
> 1920's slang: https://www.alphadictionary.com/slang/?term=&beginEra=1900&endEra=1920&clean=false&submitsend=Search
> 
> and ancient riddles (I use 71): https://web.archive.org/web/20070205185414/https://www2.kenyon.edu/AngloSaxonRiddles/texts.htm
> 
> i've just been getting back into writing, so critiques appreciated <3


	2. This Is Not The End/Fistful of Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxwell recounts a lovely afternoon, from long, long, long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> charlie sounds like Mae Questel any contrary opinions will be fed to the lureplant

"And oh, my goodness, those dancers! You saw them, right? And they were just practicing- I wish I looked that good when I was practicing-"

"You do." Maxwell interjected, holding door open for Charlie as she entered their hotel room, resting her jacket on the hanger.

She giggled then trilled, "Oh shush oh Maxy you spoil me. And that elephant? It was so massive, did you know that a Greek general invaded Spain riding on those fellas, surprised we're not all speaking Greek!" Charlie continued her enthusiasm without pause as she gathered her curler and makeup bag, kicking off her heels for now.

Maxwell watched on smiling, setting his coat and hat on the hanger. "And that trapeze! You know it always was so crazy how they flew around up there, but when you get there under there on the ground floor and it really is mind blowing," Charlie absentmindedly put a cool curler to her lip, "You think we can get that in our act? Not as high of course, but maybe I could swoop around, or even over the audience, but I suppose that would really depend on what kind of building we are performing in if it's possible."

Maxwell sat down in the chair taking off his shoes and replied, "Darling, I'll make anything possible for you,"

She smiled excitedly putting her hand over heart, "Oh Maxy. And I will do everything I can to make your dreams possible," Maxwell stood and approached her, “I can see why you always wanted to perform with this circus, they really have special charm,"

Maxwell wrapped his arms around Charlie, and she returned it, "Doll you already make all my dreams possible just by giving an unfortunate man like me a chance," he smirked looking down at her.

"Oh, hush you. I'll wring some more dreams out of you yet! Oh, our show tonight!" She broke off the hug and continued to fuss with her curler, "The talent man is going to be watching, and if we get this! Oh, I know you know, but my heart can't help thinking! I’m so nervous." She grabbed Maxwell's arms, curler in hand, somewhat uncomfortably pressing into Maxwell's arms but he didn't seem to care. "We could tour across the country! The whole country Max! More than just our little corner of the northwest. And if somebody big saw us there, we could go across the entire world! I know you've seen 'em, but golly, I wanna see a castle!"

Maxwell gave a small loving chuckle, "You do like old decrepit things,"

Charlie rolled her eyes and aggressively pressed the tip of Maxwell's nose with her finger, "Listen mister. The only thing my parents like about you is that you're nine years older than me. It's the only thing keeping my pa's riffle from pressing on your head. Better learn to appreciate your years,"

Maxwell chuckled, "Yes Boss Lady," and leaned down to give her a sultry kiss on the mouth that lasted several seconds before Charlie broke away saying, "Speaking of Ladies, the Bearded Lady, you remember her, right?"

"Hard to forget."

"She's such a kind soul, from the land of Genghis Khan! She's so smart, you know it's really harder to learn English if you're not coming from another European language, the alphabet and sounds are all so different! I wonder, if we do travel the world, if I could bring some keepsakes from her to her family. She really misses them."

"I bet. Considering the company, they make her work next to," Maxwell replied grumpily.

"Oh, I actually spoke to him too! He's not bad Maxy, he wasn't avoiding our show because he didn't like us, he was just afraid! Our act is too good! I had-, " Charlie's enthusiastic chatter was only interrupted by laughter spasms taking over her body, "I had to bribe him with a cookie to convince him to talk to me, of all things. He slowly opened up, and golly gee, the strongman is afraid of the dark!"

Maxwell smiled her adorableness and laughed "That is such a characteristic thing for you to do,"

"You know all my characteristics now do you," Charlie teased crossing her arms and going on her tiptoes, only reaching his neck, with a wide smirk. Maxwell of course returned the smirk with a dour British vengeance.

Maxwell closed his eyes then spoke in a devilish tone opening his eyes back up, "I think I do. For starters, you do not want to do your hair yet. Because I also know for a fact, I know that" he grabbed Charlie's hips and spun her around bent over on the table, hand pawing its way under her pantaloons as she gave him gasps, "you become a bitch in heat when you're excited," Charlie moaned rubbing the wetness that Maxwell had found against his palm. He leaned further over her body to whisper in her ear, "You're really excited, aren't you?"

She whimpered at the hot breath in ear, a shock of lust hitting her lower belly, "Haaahh yes". Charlie hiked up her skirts as Maxwell pulled her pantaloons down, Maxwell's restricted hardening cock rubbing against her round soft bottom. He grabbed said bottom, as roughly as he knew she liked it. And as she let out a whiney moan in response, Maxwell drew air heavily with satisfaction. He continued to grope, long thin fingers encompassing the entire cheek. His hands moved lower to grip her thighs, slowly running his thumbs in circles on her inner thigh.

He took his time, something the owner of the rump that kept pushing against him clearly had a problem with. "M-maxy just put it in."

"Hmm...I don't think so," he said, slowing down the pace of his was rubbing even more.

"Maxy!"

"Hmm, yes darling?"

"Sch-schnookums... the show is in three hours," she said cutesily.

He removed his hands and took a few steps back, "Oh quite right," he replied in a tone implying that he took her seriously." Charlie stood up and turned to look at him, blushing and very much not done, "I'll leave you to do your preparations Shnookums," he replied, in a tone that implied the opposite of serious.

She pouted, "Mistah 'Oh how could anyone ever love a handsome sweet talented man like me' is now Mr.'Razz' huh,"

"You simply," the way he purred that word brought quite simple feelings to Charlie's stomach, "reminded me that we have no time for dilly dallying."

She closed the gap between their chests and grabbed his tie, "William Carter, you are not going to _simply_ get away with your harassment of a maiden." With a well-practiced maneuver, she undid his belt and dramatically whipped it off his pants on onto the floor. She started walking forwards and he backwards in perfect tandem, such instincts were learned with one’s stage partner. "A properly written drama requires that a _climax_ be reached and that you get what you deserve."

They walked until Maxwell flopped backwards onto their little hotel bed, pulling her down with him. He then asked, both pairs of hands working to remove her skirts, "Am I so bad for loving nothing more than being desired by you?" Maxwell looked up at her dreamily with his hair starting to fall out of its meticulous place.

"Uh-huh, a classic magician's misdirection, you just wanted me on top!" she smiled. And from below, he was able to take her camisole off easily. With a giggle she added "And you're pickpocketing my corset, you total scoundrel!"

"Guilty as charged," he replied, concentrating on unlacing that very corset, which she took as opportunity to entangle her arms over his and undo his shirt buttons. He finished the undressing first and grasped her breasts through the loose shift that separated her from nakedness. How could a singular person be so soft in every single way, he wondered.

"Ah, and what beautiful," he tweaked both nipples and got a sharp moan back, "jewels were hidden in that corset. I can say I am _very_ glad I stole it." He kept going as he spoke, flicking the tips until her hands started to dig into his chest. Then he more fully pinched them, twisting the dials until he got the load crystal clear desire from her. She played her own tricks and while he was enraptured by her noises freed his eager and tantalizingly large member.

"I think there unngh are more uh," she giggled biting her lip, " _exquisite_ ones out there," then raised her hips to rub her clit against his cock and felt fiery desire burn her.

"I've always loved your _taste_ dear. I think I might have to steal that one too," he smiled below her. She smiled back mischievously and scooted forward until her vulva was above his face. Nervousness reflected in each other's eyes and the curtains fell down onto Maxwell's mouth. His tongue explored all around her, swiftly coated by her taste. It was far more overwhelming than simply licking a finger used for pleasure and he loved every moment of tasting his Charlie and feeling her folds to her most inner place. His hands wandered up her body simultaneously pulling up her shift. His tongue traveled further looking for her clit. When he felt her thrust into his face he continued to flick his tongue over that little bump. She moaned his name dramatically and kept grinding her hips on him.

He felt her lift her shift off and he took the opportunity to grab her breasts, grabbing every part of the woman he could get a hold of. Charlie moved from his face to straddle his chest and he looked up at her face, blushing like the rose magically still in her hair. She covered her breasts, "M-maxy you know how it’s embarrassing and all being naked."

"But am I not the corrupter of maidens?" He asked richly with a grin. Up seeing Charlie still looking uncomfortable however, he acquiesced and closed his eyes. While planning how he going to fuck her silly while blind of course.

Charlie held his face in her hands, grinning affectionately. She brushed her thumbs on his defined but blushing cheekbones. Then gave a small kiss on his huge nose-which she adored. She tousled his hair with one hand, as if he couldn't look more like a mess. With that same hand she moved to his lips soaking in her feminine arousal and whispered teasing, "Wonder what reaction we would get if you wore this makeup to the show."

She stopped straddling him, the bed shifted, and suddenly she was kissing him hungrily. "They would all be jealous; do you see how good you taste?" Maxwell asked her quickly before plunging into another fierce kiss as he wrapped his arms around her. She hummed an affirmative noise into his mouth as she scratched his hair lovingly. Without removing their mouths, Maxwell sat up and slowly situated Charlie on her back with Maxwell kneeling over. Each moment of movement taunting and tantalizing for the duo, Charlie pushing off the Maxwell's pants and undergarment with her feet.

He held her close, chest to chest. "You can open your eyes now," she whispered.

"Thank you dear," he said as his heavy-lidded eyes opened then slowly said, "I could spend eternity gazing at you." They met eye to eye, breath mixing with the other's breath, suffocating yet invigorating. "There is nothing more in my life I want than to always hold you in my arms," he whispered squeezing her body, voice high pitched like when he nervously first interviewed her. She wrapped her luscious thighs over his thin waist.

"Maxy," she breathed out, "I think I love you."

His dark eyes started to cry, "I don't know why," he replied and raised his hips to align his cock to her needy hot entrance, both enjoying that euphoric lust of wanting before he entered. As his cockhead slipped in, they shuddered deeply, his moan mixing with hers to the point where he couldn't tell whose was whose. "I don’t know why you do, but I know I love you too." He moved in deeper and craned his neck to see her red contorted face, as her big eyes met his. Their eyes never met during sex before, before when she was just a girl who kept signing on to do more shows with him, before when it was just lustful trysts. "I k-know I will make your dreams come true," he promised before letting out a moan at just how tightly she twitched against his cock. "We'll travel wherever you want to go and put on the m-most marvelous shows," he pushed further into her, grunting. She was hot and held his girth with just the right amount of pressure and he just filled her so exquisitely it was art. His hot breath blew onto her forehead as he entered further, not being able to resist thrusting into the deepest parts of her. She let out a shrill cry of pleasure as he hit that perfect magical spot above, but deftly avoiding, her cervix.

"Oh Maxy..." she moaned, so perfectly. "You'll be the talk of the nnnnnnghhh- nation, the man of the hour, _my_ man. I'll do everything to get you the recognition you deserve," she told him, lost in love. Maxwell slowly started to pull out and Charlie sucked in an anticipatory breath. With nothing left in but his head, he thrusted into her fully once more, giving him another delightful moan as well as giving his own lower one. "Your posters will adorn walls like c-c-cro-ah-sses over a fireplace," she promised. He started to find a steady rhythm, needy but not rough. As she was fucked she was still her chatterbug self, bouncing from moans to squeals to breathy exhales like a story with too many names to properly remember. In between her noises Maxwell's own throaty grunts could be heard.

Charlie gripped the sheets, her back slowly curving in pleasure, in the warmth of being filled by something so right. She was crazy for the man above her; he was driving her crazy, she was crazy like the night she snuck out and walked on foot through the dark horrifying night for something other than the lot she'd been given in life. She loved being crazy, didn't see a point in being much else.

He watched his love writhe below him and could feel himself getting closer and closer. The planets all aligned for him to find that book. Without it he would have never met this wonderful woman. Oh, she was so perfect. Curious, charming, intelligent, and daring in all the right ways like her hips were curved in all the right ways and like how her most intimate place was curved so perfectly and tensed around him like no other.

"Oh Charlie," he croaked as bottomed out in her one last time, then urgently pulled out. He gave a raunchy performance for his one audience member, furrowing his entire face as he spilled over her belly with a single pump. He collapsed on the bed beside her, panting and feeling consciousness fade out for a brief moment. His love mewling frustratedly beside him brought him back to reality. He turned on his side to face her. She met his face in a needy kiss and put a leg over him to hump against him.

"Maxy..." she begged grabbing his hand, "Your conniving ways...have left the heroine wanting."

"Yes, love yes, yes I have." She moved his hand to her slit, where his long fingers quickly got to work. He moved deep into her, fumbled somewhat until he found the spot he had been thrusting into again, indicated by a groaning Charlie. Instead of the steady thrusts to that sweet place she now got constant pressure from his fingertips moving. She grabbed his forearm tightly, her whole body tensing with pleasure as she could barely move enough to breathe. Finally, she let out a strangled call of release while looking at Maxwell doe-eyed and tongue lolling out. With a tired but vaguely cheeky grin she guided his fingers to lower spongey area in her canal and moaned. Maxwell chuckled and curled his fingers on that spot and watched felt a louder moan breath into his ear. Maxwell watched her squirm, tired but loving seeing such intense reactions; from her biting her lips bright red, to moans she couldn't even get out fully, and the tensing of her muscles all over her soft body. The pair could have gone like this forever and he alternated lighter and heavier amounts of pressure to draw it out.

"You're so perfect, I'd do anything for you...my love, my partner," he whispered eventually and mid-orgasm she mumbled and squeaked something along the lines of "Oh me too Maxy I love you so much." She buried her head in his chest and grasped his back tightly before relaxing into him.

He held Charlie close, breathing in her scent, head buried in the nape of her neck, "I love you, so much dear, so much," he mumbled.

Charlie shifted out of his grasp and sat up straight, looking down at him unabashedly. She grabbed his chin to make him look at her. She had recovered fully from their romp much more quickly than he, the only evidence left was tousled hair and the perky red nipple that leaned over him. "See how kind we can be, Maxwell the Great? You lack the ability to experience this part of your existence more than once. We can give it to you, like we gave you so much. We are giving. But you know you must give back."

Maxwell startled back in the sheets, "Charlie? No...no..."

"Charlie is We. We want Winona. And her king Wagstaff."

"No."

"Why not Great Maxwell?"

He looked confused, overwhelmed, but managed to get out, "I don't think I will tell you."

"We want her, pal." the mockery of a beautiful being said alienly. Then _They_ recited lines he thought he'd heard before, in her voice, "Oh Maxy, I want you to meet Winnie so bad! Now, like I told you...she hasn't liked most of my sweethearts, but I told her you're the real bonafide deal. She promised she's gonna play nice, and if she ain't nice, I'll put her in her place. Please, trust me on that,"

"I trust you Charlie. Just....what if I'm not good for you?" Maxwell sighed as he tossed a rather large handful of crumbs to the pigeons.

Charlie scooted closer to him on the park bench, closer than was proper, to give him a kiss on the cheek, "I know what I want, I've learned what's good for me. And you meet both those criteria." She squeezed his hand and said, "Just trust me Maxy."

He returned the squeeze and smiled at her, "I will. I do."

The alien voice returned the body of Charlie and said, "Good, sweety doll baby pie. Now bring us Winona and Wagstaff."

"No," said Maxwell, sounding more confident as he continued, "You've mangled Charlie beyond saving. I know you have. I no longer pretend otherwise. But if you had not, she would not want her sister in this hell," he snarled.

A young Jack appeared in front of him, and said with the same bizarre voice as Charlie, "We want it. Wendy wanted her Abigail. Charlie wants her Winona. You are doing a good thing, Great Maxwell." Then Jack grabbed his arm to hide in an alleyway as a red-faced man popped out the building, looking around.

"Oi! You boys better get on this floor now or I'll dock ye pay!"

"Ready to give the auld fella the surprise of his life Billy?" Jack whispered so excitedly to Maxwell it was barely one. A group of three mutts panted expectantly at the twins, Maxwell gave the closest one a good pat.

"Jack, we better be right and ready to swerve," William replied nervously.

But the alien voice took him out of his youthful adventures, "You loved this day so much. It was wild and crazy, and you felt 'alive'. You told We that you have not felt that in some time, do you wish to experience it again?"

Maxwell looked at the thing pretending to be his brother like a drowning man looks at land, he could only shake his head. He managed to say, "No, no I won’t."

"So boring," said the creature. "You bore We, Great Maxwell. You know what will happen when you are boring." Maxwell tried not to shudder. The creature looked around with a blank face, walking around and inspecting Maxwell's memories. The belligerent man stood and whipped his around, almost as if in a loop of time. The dogs kept panting at Maxwell unendingly. 'Jack' inspected the sooty brick alley with its debris and boxes without any interest, but then it seemed to be piqued by the shaggiest of the three dogs. He then kicked the dog with more force than a boy of his age should be able to, slamming it against the wall with a pitiful whine. 'Jack' picked up the dog that just kept panting dumbly and thrashed its head against the wall, blood covering its furred face, re-dying the brick walls to something closer to their natural color.

Maxwell numbly said, "I don't know what a dog looks like when it's been that mutilated. You're not going to get anything interesting," Maxwell gave a short pause before speaking as he thought, "But I could bring a dog here. Would that entertain you?"

Jack looked at Maxwell, that always kind face splattered with blood. With no proper transition the face turned into Wilson's joyous and absolutely foolish voice yelling, "Yes! It's a deal then!"

And suddenly Maxwell was back sitting on his throne. The gramophone was off, it was only off when _They_ wanted a new toy. He sighed. He looked into the darkness, using the sense _They_ had given him, to search around for any dogs near any of the radios on Earth. He could hear, but other senses like sight, smell, or touch were translated into intuitions he didn't fully understand.

He found a satisfactory target. A hungry, lonely whine. "Better some street dog, who was born to suffer anyway," Maxwell mumbled, causing the dog to whine again. He thought back to what _They_ wanted to do to the dog and sighed once more. He then thought back to his actual memory. Looney, Barks, and Chestnut. They were companions of he and Jack that the boys had fed and played with. He then tried to remember the prank the boys had actually played on Mr. Maybrick- but he couldn't. His memory had been totally supplanted by _Them_ ; his brother's sweet voice replaced by cold demonic bargaining.

"No, no..." Maxwell mumbled into the darkness. He couldn't remember what had happened after that time he and Charlie made love either. And somehow, he knew what Charlie felt from her perspective. Maybe some part of her-

No.

She was gone. But what had happened that day? They were supposed to put on a show? Charlie was wanting to prepare for one, but he couldn't remember the actual show.

Maxwell let out a sob, that he didn't know he still had in him. The dog on the other side started to lick the radio.

"Ah....good girl. You want to be strong girl, huh?"

The dog got excited and yelped happily.

"You'll have to work for it.... but I promise you will be. How about it...." Maxwell tried to intuit more about the dog, "Woby?"

The stupid stupid mutt wagged her tail and barked pleadingly, even as shadows grasped it into hell.

\---

Wilson's hypothesis that keeping his eyes open while traveling between worlds would provide new information had promising results.

He met Maxwell's eyes as he appeared on his back and quickly sat up. Maxwell was looking quite unhinged that caused Wilson to laugh. What a fucking lunatic all crouched over with crazy eyes. Wilson continued to laugh so loud he couldn't hear what Maxwell was saying.

He was laughing so hard he felt tears in his eyes. What a freak Maxwell was, and so powerless. He knew, he knew he knew. He wondered why Maxwell built the portals but didn't want Wilson using them. But now, now he knew. He asked the void and the void spoke back! He kept cackling and meeting Maxwell's blank stare. Oh stars, and he was seeing stars, it was getting hard to breath.

His laughter finally stilled, and Wilson gasped for breath. "The deal is still on the table. You know what the next world will be, so I suggest you take it," Maxwell repeated himself blankly.

"You didn-" Wilson started laughing again but was able to calm down _relatively_ quickly. "You didn't want to make these portals!"

"Can you stop your mad ravings for just the briefest of moments and pretend to be civilized? The pigs are better than you!"

Wilson just laughed more and pointed at Maxwell. With a cooing sing-songy voice and a wiggle of his finger Wilson said, "I'm going to dethrone you my dear King!" With a dark glare, Maxwell vanished into smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh what? the point of smut is to give people ammunition for getting off? it's not supposed leave them feeling sad and dismayed? oooops.
> 
> also technically woby is a survivor, walter meets him in the constant. which just amuses me.
> 
> life pro tip: don't confess your love until you're sure you magician boyfriend isn't practicing dark magic
> 
> maxwell's lovers all inevitably end up feeling homicidal towards him for legit reasons but at least he makes them cum? give the guy a break. ;p
> 
> more seriously i wanted to foreshadow the results of their ambition while writing fluffy honeymoon-phase maxli with our boy having a mixture of his two personas, hopefully i achieved that
> 
> so next ch might take awhile to come out because i pretty much wrote ch 1-3 all together because my autistic/adhd brain can't focus on one thing. and im having fun starting on ch 4 and ch 5 but i know im going to be more of a perfectionist on ch4 so those will probably come out around the same time. feed me comments pls?

**Author's Note:**

> wilson almost did a lot more to that radio, just felt a lil too creepy so i rewrote it. 
> 
> also i had fun with studying history for this fic
> 
> 1920's slang: https://www.alphadictionary.com/slang/?term=&beginEra=1900&endEra=1920&clean=false&submitsend=Search
> 
> and ancient riddles (I use 71): https://web.archive.org/web/20070205185414/https://www2.kenyon.edu/AngloSaxonRiddles/texts.htm
> 
> i've just been getting back into writing, so critiques appreciated <3


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